


Hush

by GodOfWar



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Battle of Dale, Consort Bilbo Baggins, Gen, Inspired by Art, M/M, Mini-Fic, Post-Battle of Five Armies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18354404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodOfWar/pseuds/GodOfWar
Summary: The Battle was won with a great cost but Erebor is under the siege.





	Hush

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [general baggins](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/469478) by shipsicle. 



The day is long, stretching seconds in the sudden hush that fell at the foot of the Lonely Mountain. But there was too much to do, too many things to see to, too many plans to make and not nearly enough Dwarrows and Men to win this battle facing the enemy on even ground. 

Peace was something that they’ve enjoyed for over decade, but only the youngest don’t remember the beat of battle drums and how long it took to wash the filth of orkish blood from the ground enough to see it bloom green again. The earth healed, as did Durin’s folk, but the Darkness never slept, never lost, always waited like a patient predator for its time to come. And come it did. Miles and miles away a hobbit, raised above the warm forges of Erebor but with all the stubbornness and levelheadedness of Shireling, with each passing day came closer to victory, hopes of the world carried in two small hands, stout heart and with loyal companion.

In North Rhovanion Lord Dáin Ironfoot watched his son leave for the West, as many soldiers as he could spare fallowed the dark red mane at the head of the column, fear setting in his heart as the last gleam of March sun shining on polished armor disappeared from his view. 

King Bard lay dead somewhere beyond the gate that held this kingdom whole, unrecovered and unburied, his son, Bain, took his mantle with grim face that still held relief that both of his sisters and Brand, his child, were counted among the living.

In the deep halls of Erebor King Consort, General, Lionheart, Dragon Riddler, a hobbit of the Kindly West held his helm, staring straight into its empty eyes, prayed and wept.

And once the tears fell, once the sob lodged itself in his throat but did not pass, he stood upright, armor weight more familiar then he ever wished it to be, squared his shoulders and made a step. And another. And one more. 

This filth, those doomed curs, _Easterlings_ , harmed his kingdom, his people, his home, his beloved **husband.**

Let them come.

He is a hobbit, after all, hospitality is important. Whatever the guest is invited or not.

Let them come. 

He can not wait to welcome them with a taste of dwarwish steel and feed them fear and let them choke on their blood.

Let them come.

He will prepare them a feast to _die_ for.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by shipsicle art of 'General Baggins' go take a look (whole art tag is basically a marvel)


End file.
